


Essays

by RosexKnight



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, F/M, Rumbelle AU - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2015-05-19
Packaged: 2018-03-31 06:50:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3968518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosexKnight/pseuds/RosexKnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Belle is a student in Prof. Gold’s class. When she accidentally turns in erotic fiction rather than an essay to her favorite professor things get…well I can imagine you know how things get.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Essays

Essays. Essays were Prof. Rodric Gold’s favorite thing to grade. Partially for the groans he heard from his students every time he assigned one, and partially for the few gems he got every year from students who seemed to know what they were doing. Needless to say, he was known throughout the university for being a hardass, and he quite enjoyed his reputation.

This year, the essay gems were coming from one Belle French. She was entering her last year of college, signing up for his Fairy Tale Genre Study course purely as an elective for her minor of creative writing, which he found quite interesting for a Library Science major. Miss French not only seem to understand the material but enjoy it. She thrived when she was writing essays, and Gold couldn’t bring himself to regret the decision of making the final assignment an essay rather than some multiple choice test. It wasn’t too hard. His students simply needed to talk about a fairy tale character and their role in mythology or why that character was misunderstood. They would turn the essays in using the online university homepage, and he would print them out and rip them to shreds. It was therapeutic, really.

He sat down in his study with his glass of scotch, sifting through the essays and stretching his bad leg out. Some took the easy way, talking about the symbolism behind the big bad wolf throughout the fables or about how sleeping beauty was misunderstood simply because of the fact that the Disney rendition of the movie was more about the fairies than her. He was just beginning to lose his patience with the constant typos and grammar errors when Belle French’s name appeared on the top left corner of the next paper. She’d chosen to talk about Rumpelstiltskin.

Gold relaxed instantly, pouring himself another glass of scotch as he sat back for a good read. Idly, he wondered if she’d done this on purpose, since he’s mentioned in one of his lectures that Rumpelstiltskin was his favorite fairy tale. He doubted the lovely Miss French was the type to brown nose, but it was working either way.

As he read, though, it became abundantly clear that a mistake had been made. A big mistake. Somehow, Belle French had not turned in an essay at all.

If it had been any other student he would have immediately given them an F with a strongly worded scolding and went on with his grading. But he knew this wasn’t like Belle French. She was always diligent with her work. This much have been a slip-up. And damn if she didn’t know how to weave a story, which was what this was. A story.

A story about Rumpelstiltskin and a princess who he was teaching to spin straw into gold. In a very…intimate way. Kissing her neck, running his hands over her body. And making her…making her…

He needed to email her. Tell her what happened. Demand she provide her proper essay. Give her a scolding for ruining his whole night of grading. But he couldn’t move, was barely aware that he’d taken another swig of his scotch, because the princess had blue eyes and brown curls and all he could think (all he could ever think when his mind wandered and he was only since meeting the damn girl) was his own hands on Belle French, making her gasp and moan as Rumpelstiltskin was doing to the princess. Hearing his name on her lips as he made her scream.

Oh he was in trouble. But so was she, it seemed. Because the imp called her “dearie” and had brown eyes and hair with wisps of grey despite it being curly. It was about them. She’d written fairy tale erotic fiction about them, and the thought alone was enough to make him groan.

His pants were impossibly tight, It was with great effort that he left the study and found his computer, beginning the email to Be– Miss French. He should explain things. Tell her what happened. But despite his fierce reputation he was a coward, and he simply asked her to meet him in his office that afternoon. He could tell her then. He more or less had to, didn’t he?

~

Belle was wracking her brain as to why on earth Prof. Gold would want her to meet in his office. She tried to think of what she’d done, but nothing came to mind. She’d turned in her essay on time, and in her opinion it was her best one yet. She talked about Rumpelstiltskin, why he was only a lonely imp rather than a trickster, how he only wanted his deal to be honored but was perhaps a bit too confident. No, it couldn’t have been the essay.

So then what?

She knocked briefly on his door before entering, hiding her nerves behind a small smile as he nodded to her from his computer.

“Have a seat, dearie.” He said easily, sipping whatever tea he’d decided to make today from his favorite antique teacup. “I’m just finishing up an email.”

Belle nodded, shutting the door to the office behind her as she had a seat in her usual cushy chair opposite his desk. She loved his office. It was all organized chaos, with an array of knick-knacks that looked almost worthless to the naked eye, but Belle knew better. Each had a story, and she’d taken to joining him in his office for lunch and hearing them or talking endlessly about books and symbolism within them. He was a much better conversationalist than her classmates, and really he was more fun to debate with. And handsome. It was really no wonder she was so damn attracted to him. Hopefully she’d get over that next year…

Today his posture was stiff, and he stopped typing and did some clicking, and she realized she’d need to begin this. Already this was off to an odd start.

“Is there…something you needed to talk to me about Professor?” She ventured.

He nodded. “Yes. It’s about your essay.”

She frowned, quirking an eyebrow at him. “What was wrong? Did you not like it?”

“I never said that.” He said, holding up a group of stapled papers that was what she assumed was her essay. “No I quite liked it. Especially the part where Rumpelstiltskin’s…” He cleared his throat, lifting her paper up to read it. “‘Lips brushed the princess’s ear briefly, whispering his name. That she’d earned it. That he wanted to hear it on her lips. That she’d be screaming it before…’”

Belle’s blood turned to ice in her veins, and she was suddenly calculating the odds of the floor collapsing beneath her. They weren’t good. She buried her face in her hand and, mercifully, he stopped reading.

“I didn’t…” She said, groaned really, after a long pause between them.

“In afraid you did, dearie.” He said in a tone she couldn’t pinpoint.

“They were both titled 'The Lonely Spinner.’” Belle said miserably, as if that justified it. She could to bring herself to look at him. “My essay was about how he was just a lonely guy and how he wasn’t necessarily a bad guy. It was good. I can email it to you properly this time. I’m so sorry…”

“Belle…” Prof. Gold said, and Belle finally looked up at him. His eyes were gentle, and suddenly Belle realized she wasn’t in trouble. He wasn’t mocking her. She couldn’t figure him out at all, though.

He leaned forward, pushing the paper towards her. “It’s very good.” He offered.

“Thank you.” She said with a small smile.

“It’s…” He swallowed, trying to gain his courage, “it’s about us…Isn’t it?”

And just like Belle was frozen again, stuck somewhere between slapping him and bolting out of the office, never entering again. What had she been thinking writing this?! She’d been thinking he always looked really hot in his suits and that his cane only added to it and wondering how soft his hair was is what she was thinking. How had it happened to get turned into him?!

“I’ll go.” Belle decided was safe enough to say, immediately standing. Running had won. “I’m sorry.”

“Belle wait.” He called, standing with her and catching her by the wrist faster than a man with a limp had any right to.

Belle should have pulled away. Should have kept going. She knew that. She shouldn’t be here, with him, especially not with her knees this weak and cheeks this red. God how had this happened?! She stayed where she was though, and turned to look at him. Because the princess had a chance to stop too. Had a chance to get away from the imp. But there was nothing in Gold’s eyes but understanding and something that made every thought of leaving that office leave Belle’s mind.

She wasn’t ready for this. Not at all. But she was turning back to him, watching as his adams apple bob as he swallowed, and oh lord this was happening.

“I…” Prof. Gold began as he seemed to struggle for words. He looked nervous, almost shy as he couldn’t meet her eyes. But he was leaning ever so slightly over his desk. Towards her.

Realization surged through Belle. He wasn’t scolding her. He was shy. He felt the same. This was happening.

“We shouldn’t…” Was all she could manage as she leaned towards him from the other side of the desk.

“Aye. We shouldn’t…”

Oh but why did his accent have to get thicker? She swallowed herself.

“But we’re going to?”

Their noses were nearly touching now, and Belle wanted so badly to close the gap, but it looked like she was as nervous as him, and the last thing she wanted to do was scare him away with her boldness. Hell the thought of Gold scared at all made her want to laugh. Besides, if they were found out she’d merely be expelled. His whole career was on the line. No, this had to be his decision.

Oh she so hoped they were doing this, though.

He leaned forward, then hesitated, his eyes flicking up to hers rather than her lips.

“You’ll have to turn in your essay either way.” Gold said, his warm breath ghosting over her lips.

Belle realized he thought she was just doing this for the grade. Oh how wrong he was.

“I know.” She said with a small smile. “I wouldn’t want to do it for the grade anyway…”

The words “Fuck it.” were barely off of his lips when his was on hers. She’d expected the kiss to be shy and tender. It wasn’t.

His lips crashed onto hers. They were firm, moving with the purpose of devouring her. There was a desperation about it, like he expected her to slap him and storm off at any moment, though she expected she might get an A just for this, no matter what he said. He moaned as she opened her lips for him without any prompting, and she answered with one of her own as his hands found his hair the moment his tongue found hers and why did the stupid desk have to be in the way?! After a moment he realized he wasn’t going to get slapped and his hands carded through her hair, playing with the ends as she used her hands to prop herself on the damn desk. His lips grew softer on her, more tender as he explored her lazily. Gold tasted like coffee and cigarettes, and she never found the taste so perfect before in her life.

They parted, their lips swollen and red from being thoroughly kissed and suddenly she didn’t want it to stop. Their gazes locked, and under the hunger she saw something more. So much more. She swallowed as he caressed her cheek, looking at her in awe, like she shouldn’t exist.

“Belle…”

“Don’t tell me that’s all.” She said, her voice coming out more desperate than she wanted it to.

He blinked. “You don’t want it to be.”

It wasn’t a question, and she found herself laughing at it. At him. At everything. “You’re really dense aren’t you?”

Gold didn’t respond, though he didn’t seem to like her words. He raised his brow at her, prompting her to continue.

“I’ve had a thing for you since the first time I came into your office!” She exclaimed, her words coming out in a jumbled mess. “And Ruby thought I was crazy and she’s right I am. And I figured you’d never go for a student anyway so I tried to…but I was just so drawn to you so when I was writing the essay I had the idea. I figured I’d get it all out of my system.”

“Did you?”

Gold’s voice was a whisper, and she offered him a smile. “Do you think I would have kissed you if I had?”

“I kissed you.” He pointed out.

“I wrote erotic fiction of the two of us under the guise of fairy tale characters. I think that counts as instigating it…”

Gold swallowed again. It was painfully obvious that he was out of his element as he glanced out the window, as if waiting for someone to catch them still leaning too close to each other.

“Should I go?” Belle asked.

“No.” Gold said firmly, in a voice that screamed hard-ass professor. He moved to pull down the blinds of the window. This seemed to relax him. “We need to address where to go from here.”

“Right. Of course.”

He chuckled as he moved to lock the door to his office. Belle wished she could read him, but he’d slipped back to being all business. But when he spoke his voice had lost its edge.

“The last thing I expected was to find I had so much in common with one of my students, especially one as lovely as you.”

She blinked at him, wondering where this boldness had come from. But he was soon on her, standing close, trapping her between the desk and his body.

“I thought you’d done it on purpose. Found out about my attraction and decided to play a trick on me.”

“Why would I do that?” Belle asked, a little breathlessly.

“Well I’m a fairly difficult man to love.”

“I don’t think so.”

The words came out to quickly, and she didn’t realize what she’d said until he was looking at her like she’d just performed divine intervention on his soul. Hell perhaps all this WAS divine intervention.

He stepped closer, putting his hands on the desk on either side of her. He was close, impossibly close, but still refused to touch her.

“You have to tell me to stop.” He rasped, his eyes squeezing shut as if she were torturing him. She may not have been, but she imagined the tightness in his pants was. “One word, Belle. Tell me you don’t want this and it’ll be as if it never happened.”

So that was it. He expected her to say no. To reject him, and leave. Just like that. The rational part of her brain told her she probably should, since she didn’t fancy getting burned from the fire they were playing with. But he was looking at her like she was the only woman in the world, and she couldn’t. She wanted to be the only woman. In HIS world.

She shook her head. “No.” She said, pulling him closer by the lapels of his suit. “I wouldn’t mean it. I want you, Professor Gold.”

“Rodrick.”

“Pardon?”

Gold grinned, and leaned forward. His lips brushed her ear briefly. “Rodrick. My name. I do believe you’ve earned it.”

A gasp left Belle’s lips, and her bones trembled. He acted quickly, though, wrapping an arm around her and holding her against him before her legs gave out from surprise. She let her eyes flutter close, letting the reality he was weaving from her fantasy wash over her.

“I want to hear it on your lips.” He whispered, and Belle noticed he was trembling just as much as her. “You’ll be screaming it before long.”

Belle smiled, opening her eyes to lock with his. They were filled with desire, but also trepidation.

“If I do that then people will hear.” She reminded, pulling her bottom lip into her mouth to chew it, hiding her nerves.

“Don’t ruin the fantasy, dearie. It’s one you wrote after all.”

His lips were on her again, and he lifted her into the desk. She didn’t realize she’d spread her legs for him to stand between until he was already there. Their hands explored each other, memorizing every spot that made each other shiver and keen

“You deserve better.” Gold said as his hands drifted underneath her T-Shirt. “A proper seduction. Candlelight dinner. A soft bed.”

Belle was pulling off his tie, trying hm to get him out of those expensive clothes. “If you stop now I’ll slap you.”

He chuckled. “Well I wouldn’t want to disappoint my princess.”

Belle whimpered as he leaned forward, trailing open-mouth kisses up and down her neck as she unbuttoned his shirt, tracing the skin of his chest under the few buttons she dared to undo. His chest rumbled under her fingertips, and suddenly hands were everywhere his lips weren’t. She clung to his shirt under his jacket as his hands trailed fire and sparks up her sides and under her breasts. She whimpered when one of them cupped her breast, the other moving lower and god it was so hard not to moan when his hands were on her navel.

Gold made a noise that was somewhere between relief and pain when his fingers weaved under her panties to stroke her folds.

“What?” Belle asked, stilling, afraid she’d done something.

Gold only shook his head. “You’re…”

His word was only a breath, and Belle smiled, cupping his cheek with her hand. “You think I wouldn’t be?”

He faltered, and it was then, leaning back on his desk with hand hands under her skirt, that Belle realized the look in his eye, mingled in with the trepidation, was something much deeper than mere want. Something stirred inside her. Something that really should have worried her seeing as it was for her professor. But it didn’t. And so, she carded her hand through his hair, relishing in the noise he made in his throat as she scratched his scalp.

“I told you. I want you, Rodrick.”

The sound he made as he overtook her mouth sounded like a dying animal. But then his fingers entered her, and she made a sound very similar against his lips.

“Again.” He whispered.

“Rod..” Gold curled his fingers, and breath hitched. Then her words were practically a sob. “Rodrick. Please.”

“Here?”

“You’re having second thoughts NOW?”

He twerked his fingers in apology and had her keening again. “Zipper.” She demanded, because her hands were too preoccupied with making him shiver with her fingers against his scalp and back.

Their lips parted just long enough for him to get his zipper undone. Belle mourned for a moment at the loss of his fingers, but then something else was there and his eyes were on his. She nodded, keeping her eyes locked as he moved, pushing into her. She lost all control, biting her bottom lip to stifle the moan as her hands dropped from his hair to grasp at something, anything, as he covered her with his body. The desk was hard on her back, but she was op overwhelmed with sensations of him filling her so completely and utterly to care. Vaguely, she was aware that her hand hit something, and the clattering of porcelain against the floor.

“I knocked your teacup off the desk.” She gasped.

“Don’t care.” He growled, burying his face in her neck, clutching her to his chest. “It’s just a cup.”

Belle wasn’t sure if he was telling the truth or not, but Gold was trembling, rocking into her slowly until he was filling her completely. She bit her lip to stifle a moan. She’d never felt so filled completely before. And he was holding her, clinging really, as of he was afraid she would disappear if he let her go. But he was so gentle about it, like she would shatter or wilt like a petal under his touch.

Oh but she didn’t want gentle.

“Rodrick please…” Belle keened, wrapping her legs around him, urging him on. “You feel so good. Please move.”

Above her, Gold groaned, clutching her, pulling her forward as he finally, FINALLY, moved. He was tentative at first, his lips pressing open-mouth kisses to her neck. Belle realized he was doing it on purpose, repeating the actions that she’d written for Rumpelstiltskin. Seems she’d gotten his character down pretty well.

“Belle…” He breathed her name like a prayer. “I know you wanted slow and tender but…”

“No. I don’t care.” Belle said, clutching him tighter, desperate to feel the coil in her belly tighten and release. “Please, Rodrick.”

He didn’t need any more encouragement. He was moving with purpose now, clinging to her and meeting her lips with reckless desperation. They swallowed each other’s noises as they tasted each other, feeling each other in the most intimate ways. It was no wonder the warmth pulled so soon, and she was kissing him harder, all tongue and teeth, as she urged him on. All at once his thrusts became erratic and he gasped as he became tense on her. Belle quaked with her, slapping a hand over her mouth to stifle her cry of pleasure.

After a few moments she came back to herself. His weight was on her, and the edges of the desks were digging into the back of her legs. Never had she felt more perfect.

“We need to move…” He said.

Belle groaned, but Gold kissed her forehead and chuckled. He stepped back, tucking himself back into place. She shivered from the loss of warmth, but sat up to watch him button his shirt back up and pull his tie back into place. She didn’t realize she was smiling until her cheeks became sore.

“I believe you have an essay to email to me…” He said, limping to his chair to sit down and stretch out his bad leg.

Guiltily, Belle slid off the desk, fluffing her clothes back into place. “Oh!”

He quirked an eyebrow at her as she bent over to pick his teacup off the floor.

“It’s…um chipped.” She said, holding it up. “You can hardly see it…”

This time, he was the one to smile, and he lifted his hand, silently beckoning her over. He took the cup from her hand, kissing her palm. “I told you. It’s just a cup.”

“Of course…” She said, heat rising in her cheeks. “I’ll um…I’ll email you the paper the moment I’m home.”

Unsure of what exactly to do next, she turned, meaning to leave and collect her thoughts. But he didn’t let go of her hand.

“Have you ever had beef ragout, Miss French?”

She blinked at him, the have him another soft smile. “It sounds fancy.”

“Quite simple to prepare. And delicious when done right.”

“Are you…asking me to dinner?”

“Don’t I owe you?”

Belle found herself giggling, and squeezed his hand. “Tonight? Around 7?”

“I’d like that.”

And there was that look again. That look that told her she was the only woman in the world. In HIS world. She felt like it, too, and she vaguely wondered how much flack she would get from Ruby if her friend knew who she’d be ditching that party tonight for.

Maybe she’d make happy accidents like this more often with her favorite professor.


End file.
